


Holly Stick Detective Agency

by Lobsterling



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkwardness, Carrying, Chaos, Cinnamon Roll Dirk Gently, Communication, Dirk Gently Needs a Hug, Gay, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Todd Brotzman, Todd Brotzman is a Good Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobsterling/pseuds/Lobsterling
Summary: What to do when your holistic detective has a very verbal breakdown at a very bad time.
Relationships: Todd Brotzman & Dirk Gently, Todd Brotzman/Dirk Gently
Comments: 18
Kudos: 33





	1. Evil Underground Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to do when your holistic detective has a very verbal breakdown at a very bad time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I had no intention of writing this but then a good friend begged me and I had to do it. So here you are :) Enjoy!

How he had ended up in this situation was knowledge that had long since left Todd’s mind like a drunk duck staggering out of a police station. The fact was, he was stuck in the shadows of a dead-ended corridor with a group of thugs round the corner hollering to each other about something to do with can openers, and at any moment they would stop shouting and listen, and they would hear.

Because Dirk would not stop talking.

He appeared to have forgotten how to disengage his mouth, and he was jabbering away with a terrified glaze in his eyes. To give him some credit, he was jabbering _quietly ー_ but they were standing a mere twenty metres from the thugs and any drop in conversation would easily give them away.

“Well _I_ never thought it was going to end up like this, I just thought ‘Oh, Todd will have some great idea like he normally does’ and we’ll be out before you can say _Nothing is a coincidence_ but _this_ happened and how was _I_ meant to know we were going to end up trapped in an evil underground lair with people who are probably going to cut us up and feed us to crocodiles whenー”

He was pacing random shapes no longer than the length of Todd’s tether and emphasising everything with hand movements. Even in the shadows, as Todd tried to herd him away from the light that oozed from the thugs’ gathering, Dirk’s eyes were glistening. He was scared out of his mind, and his mind was running out of his mouth. Todd hated it, and desperately wished he would shut up, but there was something in the urgency of Dirk’s voice and movements ー like he couldn’t _help_ it.

He must be having a breakdown of some sort, Todd concluded. Any other time, any other place, and he’d have been patient enough to work out how to calm Dirk down; what words to say to bring him back; but not now. Todd’s heartbeat scattered with Dirk’s wild gestures and his own arms shook.

They were scared. Both of them were scared shitless and had no idea what to do.

So it was entirely instinct when there was the sound of heavy boots on concrete heading towards the opening of their dead end, and Todd grabbed Dirk by the jacket and yanked him into the shadows against the wall. Cold concrete against his back, flapping mad detective against his front, footsteps approaching. A minute ago ー or was it seconds? Hours? ー he had tried putting his hand over Dirk’s mouth. All it had achieved was an increase in panic and flailing and frenzied mumfing, louder than the hysteric chittering that he’d been trying to suppress. The approach of the thug felt like the moment when you realise someone has uncovered your deepest secret ー stretched and twisted and turgid with terror ー but somehow slowed as the mind races through every possible outcome and every way to avoid them. Todd’s mind slammed through ideas, crushed every impossible solution and, without any conscious agreement, came upon an answer. Dirk was still thrashing, face racing through every available expression in the space of seconds, hands swiping at the air then clutching at Todd’s shirt then flying at the wall where surely the impact cut his knuckles, and his voice was high and shaking as he struggled in Todd’s grasp.

“ーbut I never _asked_ for this, I didn’t get to _choose_ this and now I’m stuck here and you’re probably going to die and it’ll be my fault for dragging you intoー”

And then he couldn’t say anything else, because Todd was kissing him.

That didn’t mean he didn’t _try_ , of course. But he found it somewhat difficult to do and, after a moment, the shock hit him like an asteroid and he shut up completely.

 _Clomp clomp_ of boots. Both detective and assistant stared at the entrance to the corridor. Todd didn’t let Dirk go, because he was beginning to look as though he might explode like a glitter bomb, and he wasn’t risking the reactivation of incessant speech ー but both men went still (or _almost_ still in Dirk’s case, who was trembling like a wind-up set of fake teeth) as a thug passed into view. She paused, picked her nose, shrugged, and walked on. Tremulous silence tingled in the air, and after a moment ー or was it an age? ー she called out and the other thugs grumbled together and trudged after her.

Neither Dirk nor Todd dared to move for some time. It had never really been a kiss ー only the stationary alternative occupation of lips ー but when Todd attempted to push Dirk off him he found it an unexpectedly difficult task, and the moment he had, Dirk was back. Thoughts without words throbbed through Todd’s mind like the blaring of a passing highspeed train, until he managed to grab Dirk’s ears and pull him off to hiss, _“We are still in an evil underground lair!”_

Dirk stepped back, and swayed on the spot. In the glimmer of light from where the thugs had left something on, Todd saw extreme euphoria shining on Dirk's face ー and was stunned to find an echo of it in himself. For a moment, Dirk gave him the most delighted grin Todd had ever seen (which was quite something, given how perpetually cheerful the detective was), and then his eyes rolled back and Todd had to lunge to catch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mumfing is a word I invented because the English language does not contain a decent word for "muffled shouting" so now there is one.)


	2. A Scrape and Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Encore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I ended up continuing this. Because there was demand (from one or two people. Such demand.). And I am entirely making this up as I go along so I'm sorry if things don't make any sense; I'm doing it for the audience (and not my own vicarious amusement promise). Anyway enjoy!

The first thing Dirk became aware of was a weight on his shoulder blades; but as he caught more threads of consciousness, he realised it was the other way round. There was something beneath his knees too, and his feet felt weird. Mind shuffling about like a swirled pot of soup, he managed to open his eyes enough to see a  _ hand _ attached to his knee; he made a noise like a strangled tree frog and squirmed to be free.

“Stay  _ still _ ー”

Dirk looked up, and recognised Todd’s face. “Oh,” he said, and stopped struggling. Slowly he took in his position ー how he wasn’t touching the floor, how he was floating along in a pair of arms…

“Todd!” Dirk filled up with excitement. “You’re  _ carrying _ me!”

“Well done for noticing the bloody obvious.” Todd sounded frustrated and strained. Dirk realised he had an arm slung around Todd’s shoulders and had to wiggle the other fist to contain himself. Todd glanced at him, pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. Dirk noticed them glimmer. “You know it would be helpful if you didn’t faint in the depths of a thug-ridden concrete maze next time.”

Dirk thought. “Oh,” he said slowly, and winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Dirk couldn’t tell if he meant it or not. “Where are we?” He tried to look around, pulling himself up with the arm around Todd’s neck.

“On the way ouー” said Todd, before toppling with a shout as Dirk tried to turn around in his arms. The pair sprawled onto the floor and Dirk’s face squashed into the rough surface. His hands wailed, and Todd grunted beside him then turned a glare on the detective.

“Sorry,” whispered Dirk. He made what he hoped was an apologetic face as Todd got up, rubbing his elbows.

“Come on.” Todd began to leave.

“Mmm?” Dirk sat up, holding out his aching arms with a smile.

Todd gave an incredulous scoff. “ _ No _ . Absolutely not. You can walk yourself.”

“My legs might be broken.”

“If they were you’d be a lot less cheerful. Come  _ on _ .”

Dirk pouted, but got up. His legs  _ were _ all floppy though and his insides felt like a bowlful of small, fluffy, squirming mice. When he took a step, his knee gave up beneath him and he grabbed at Todd’s shoulder. Todd steadied him, and Dirk was sure he saw something resembling worry flitter across his face. But in a moment it was gone, replaced by the irritated disbelief that so regularly occupied his features.

“Are you  _ sure _ my legs aren’t broken?”

Todd made a small, strangled noise, grabbed Dirk by the arm and dragged him behind him. Dirk had to hang onto him to keep from falling over.

“How do you know the way out?” Dirk’s knees still felt weak and his mice hadn’t settled at all.

“I don’t.”

“Thenー”

“I’m just assuming that we’re going in the right direction because the universe hasn’t objected, okay?” Todd had stopped and turned, and there was something unusual woven beneath his tone of desperation.

Dirk couldn’t help it. It felt like his smile would tear his cheeks. He bounced on the spot, still clutching Todd’s arm. He was going to say something like,  _ “I am extremely very happy you said that,” _ but there was a sound from the hallways behind them. Dirk yelped and leapt; Todd yanked on his arm and they stumbled away through the dark.

~

Daylight was beginning to fade when Todd finally opened a door onto open air. Behind him Dirk gave a huge sigh of relief, and Todd could  _ feel _ him smiling. It was unnerving. Carefully he closed the door behind them, and glanced around to get an idea of where they were. Just as he recognised the street nearby, Dirk said, “That’s my car!” and set off towards it with a little hop.

“How did it get there?” muttered Todd to no one in particular, and he followed Dirk up the small overgrown path between two buildings and onto the road.

Dirk was gripping the wheel when Todd got into the passenger seat. “Right,” he was saying, “where now?”

Todd hesitated. Until now he'd been driven by a kind of reckless certainty. Now he felt… deflated, shaky. His brain was a watermill of confusion.

But at that moment he was temporarily saved from his indecision by a band of very angry looking thugs thundering down the path towards them.

“Away!”

Dirk slammed the accelerator and the car leaped forward. It panthered onto the road and snarled as it sped away from the thugs who, when Todd caught them in the mirror, looked thoroughly disgruntled. One shouted to another, and they trudged the opposite way down the street.

Ten seconds on and Dirk said, “No really, where are we going?”

“Uh,” said Todd, trying to watch behind them and in front simultaneously. “Uh, my flat. Then yours.”

“Why?” Dirk sounded almost offended. Todd rubbed his head and decided he'd deal with that specific confusion later – or never.

“Because you asked and I said so.”

“Oh. Well I suppose that's reasonable.”

“Yeah. Watch out for that–!”

The car shrieked round a pair of children and wobbled back into the right lane.

“I know what I'm doing,” said Dirk with a smile.

“No,” said Todd, delirium trembling on the edge of his voice, “you don't.”

Dirk's smile faded, and he made a face that said, ‘good point.’

It was only then that Todd noticed the blood on Dirk's hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm still making up and re-purposing words. Watch out, because soon I'll be floppering.


	3. Patch Up and Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to patch up your holistic detective, and how *not* to be emotionally supportive of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this is becoming a thing... It's way more interesting than schoolwork anyway. Though not all that much easier, to be honest. I'm working hard for y'all! (Sadly no new/repurposed words in this one but I'll get shakespearing again soon enough I should think.)

Darkness was settling when they pulled up at the block of flats and climbed the stairs to Todd’s door. “Stay there,” Todd said as Dirk made to follow him inside.

“But–”

“ _Stay_.” The feeling he was looking after an abandoned puppy burbled within him. “I'm just picking something up.”

“Well–” Dirk glanced over his shoulder. “Be quick then.” He sounded suddenly nervous.

“Yeah, okay. I'll be quick. Don't worry.”

Checking back down the hallway again, Dirk nodded tersely and Todd turned back to the door.

Originally he'd only planned to get into a clean set of clothes. He was dirty and longed for something less sticky to wear. And he would have hung around to clean himself too, but his broken window whistled a whine of warning. On the way out, he grabbed a paper bag he’d left there that morning – had it really been that recent? – and his drawstring first aid kit.

He was stepping into the hallway when he heard Dirk calling his name.

A pause; a panic – where _was_ Dirk? – then he was stumbling down the stairs to the corridor below where Dirk was pointing wildly through a window to a menacing looking van which was approaching down the street. A tattooed arm hung out one window.

“They’re coming for us,” said Dirk, turning to Todd with his eyes full of fear. Todd looked down, paused and watched as the van trundled lazily past and went on its way.

“Oh.” Dirk sounded simultaneously relieved and embarrassed.

“Come on.” Todd gestured to Dirk’s door, and the detective fumbled for his keys – which miraculously he had not lost.

“Why are we using my flat again?” Dirk looked up halfway through turning the key.

“Because mine is a complete wreck?”

Dirk shrugged and didn’t question any further.

The flat was soothingly dark. Dull wallpaper and glareless lighting, it was like stepping into a burrow – only without all the worms and soil and dampness. Todd shook his head slightly, wondering at this odd comparison – and also how he’d never seen it like this before. What was different now that made it so welcoming?

Dirk was already at the kitchenette, shoving his hands under the taps and saying, “Ow.”

“No, come on.” Todd dropped his stuff on the table and went to push Dirk’s hands out of the running water. It was cold; he turned it up to run it hot and fished around in the cupboards until he found a washing up bowl. Dirk watching him all the time with confused interest, he filled the bowl with warm water and picked it up.

For a moment Todd regarded the sofa. It looked so comfortable and he wanted so very much to sink into it and fall asleep. Just a moment of relaxation…

Todd gestured to a rug on the floor and set the bowl down at its centre. “Sit,” he said, doing so himself.

Dirk walked over and hovered. Todd watched his shoes shuffle for a moment – then he sat down opposite, the bowl between them. “What?” he said, as if Todd had put him there to tell him off.

Todd rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He wondered how many times round the world it would reach if he put together all the times he’d rolled his eyes at Dirk Gently and then realised that didn’t make any sense. God, he was tired. “Give me your hands.”

Dirk’s eyes widened, but he stuck out his arms. There was a pause; the absence of drawstring bag took several seconds to sink in. “Hold that thought,” Todd said as he fumbled to his feet to get the first aid kit from the table. When he sat back down with it, Dirk hadn’t moved an inch. It was both bemusing and irritating that he would stay so still when it wasn’t at all necessary, and then wander off and get himself into something when clearly instructed to stay put.

“What thought?”

Pulling a cloth out of the bag, Todd looked up. “What?”

“What thought am I supposed to be holding?”

Todd squinted at him. “You’re– no, I said–”

“Never mind.” Dirk looked at his outstretched hands. Todd looked at them too. Weariness wobbled in the air between them. “Are you–”

Todd dunked the cloth in the warm water and grabbed Dirk’s right fingers. Whatever he had been about to say, it was cut off by an exclamation of, _“Ow!”_

Dirk looked wounded, but also like he wasn’t going to start talking again for a minimum of thirty seconds, so Todd loosened his hold. Then stain by stain, scrape by scrape, wince by wince, he began to wipe the blood from Dirk’s hand. Guilt dripped in his gut like the red splashed and spread into the water as he saw how many cuts there were; Dirk must have hit the wall a great deal while caught in Todd’s grasp. There had been scuffles before that moment, but all in the dark so there had been no way of telling which wounds were sustained when. Nevertheless… Dirk’s left hand rested on the edge of the bowl and sent small swirls of colour into the water as he wiggled his fingers. Though he was concentrating on the hand, Todd noticed peripherally how Dirk’s demeanour gradually relaxed. He seemed to melt a little, as though he’d been briefly put in a microwave.

Everything was going smoothly until Todd turned the hand over to clean its palm and Dirk said, “Are we… Are we actually going to talk about it?”

Todd froze. Dirk’s fingers wiggled a little faster.

“What, talk about what?” said Todd, well aware of the answer.

“You know…” Dirk shrugged and Todd clenched his jaw, concentrating on the hand he continued, now so assiduously, to clean. “The _thing._ Which happened.”

Todd pursed his lips. He did not want to talk about it. He didn’t know how anyone was supposed to go about beginning to talk about that. Characters on TV always seemed to be so confident and collected in these situations, connecting easily and discussing openly – it had never seemed realistic to him, and he had certainly not expected Dirk to bring it up. The detective seemed to endlessly alternate between nervous wreck and irrationally confident. If Dirk was a current, Todd thought, he’d be AC.

“I mean I didn’t think you–”

Todd cut him off by pressing a little too hard on a graze. The hand tensed and Todd regretted it; he looked up to apologise and was met with the face of what was definitely a nervous wreck. Somehow Dirk was managing to say things coherently while still obviously being volcanically anxious. Todd almost forgot his guilt in the surprise of this feat.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I really think–”

“Can I just–” Todd tried to ignore the redness in Dirk’s ears and the heat in his own. “Can I just– do this?”

Dirk pressed his lips together, gave a small nod and went quiet.

“Okay. Thank you.”

The silence managed to survive until Todd started on the left hand. For some reason, Dirk had decided the small change was a good excuse to start talking again.

“You see I don’t think I’ve ever–”

“That’s great, okay, shut up.”

Even though he was looking down, Todd saw Dirk’s shoulders slump and felt him deflate. Pausing his cleaning, Todd sighed. In the stillness he became acutely aware of Dirk’s hand in his own; the weight, the slight tremor… “I’m sorry Dirk. I’m tired and I had to lug you halfway across a building and–”

“Good relationships need good communication, Todd.” He sounded hurt.

“What?”

“Friends need to talk to each other.”

“What would you know about that?”

Dirk shrugged again, and it was a small, hopeless gesture. “Nothing at all.”

Todd’s insides flared with regret. He wiped the worst of the remaining blood from Dirk’s hand and slid the bowl of water to the side, dropping the cloth into it. Dirk hung on to Todd’s hand and Todd’s shoulders crawled with confusion. Why had he said that? What was Dirk doing? What was _he_ doing? His arms ached and his head throbbed. He was beginning to act on irrational instinct, like writing a paragraph using only predictive text. Making himself meet Dirk’s eyes, which were wide and glimmering, he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and this time he meant it.

Dirk gave him the smallest smile and Todd’s insides flipped. Whatever courage he’d been collecting curled up and hid. Why was the room suddenly so hot?

“Come here. I’ll do your face.” 

A series of minute changes rippled over Dirk’s features; then he let go of Todd’s hand, uncrossed his legs and shuffled into the gap where the bowl had been. Fishing the cloth out of the water and squeezing it, Todd prepared to return to the fractured silence from before; but there was one big difference now.

Todd was looking at Dirk’s face, and Dirk was most definitely looking at him.

Every wince, every twitch was impossible to ignore. Todd found himself being gentler as he dabbed at the grazes on the side of Dirk’s face which had presumably hit the floor in their fall, but his hands shook. He had to steady them with a thumb on Dirk’s chin, and the endless distraction of being watched intently didn’t help a bit. Unwavering, quite possibly unblinking, Dirk was looking at him. His eyes shone in the low light and Todd couldn’t meet them for fear of losing what breathing ability he had left.

When Dirk spoke again, Todd jumped and accidentally hit him in the nose. Dirk didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sorry too.” He finally averted his gaze and Todd took a breath, as though momentarily released from a giant’s grasp. “For bringing it up when you obviously don’t want to–”

“It’s fine.”

“Is it? Oh good. That’s a relief. I was worried I upset you but I’ll shut up now–”

“No I mean, it’s okay. You can–” Todd gulped. “–Talk.”


	4. Doubt Within A Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd tries his best. Dirk *isn't* crying. Totally.

To be blunt, Dirk was getting annoyed with being cut off all the time. But that wasn't going to stop him now.

"All right," he said slowly, as Todd dropped his hands into his lap, the damp cloth clutched between them. "Then… What happened?"

Leaning back, Todd squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know," he said at length. Dirk's mild disappointment must have shown on his face because when Todd opened his eyes, he said, "I'm sorry Dirk. I just– I don't even remember deciding to do it. It just happened." There was a bloated pause. "It was a thing. Which happened."

Dirk remembered all of it. In fact, he was having trouble _not_ remembering it; it was playing on repeat in his head like the single line from a song you heard somewhere but don't know the rest of and can't for the life of you find its title to google the lyrics. The memory was vivid but jumbled; the shock – the thrill – the pull inside him, like a magnet, like a _hunch_ – the feeling after like being in a bubble bath of clouds. But Todd shrugged and said again, "I'm sorry. I– I can't tell you any more than that."

Dirk could feel the embarrassment radiating off him. Even if he couldn't, it would have been obvious anyway. Personally, Dirk thought Todd was doing very well indeed, after being so nervous. After _staying_ so nervous. Dirk thought he was doing rather well himself too – he had fisted his hands on his knees to reduce the shaking and his voice was almost steady. Well, steadier than before. But he was saying things, and so far they were mostly what he meant to say, which was a good start! And the bottom of his lungs were tingling, the way they did when he was on a case, only… sparklier.

“So…” Dirk squinted, as if Todd’s face contained some answer he would see if he looked harder. “What _was_ it then?”

Todd put on his incredulously-confused face. Dirk smiled at him; that was more familiar territory. “Are you _questioning_ me?”

“I’m asking you questions, yes.”

“No, I mean–” Todd ran his hands through his hair – were there stains on the bottoms of his sleeves? – and tossed them back onto his legs. He seemed to study Dirk’s face for a moment, apparently trying to convince himself of something. Dirk had seen this expression hundreds of times before; he waited for it to pass. When it did, Todd’s answer was less than useful. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you know _anything_ Todd?” Dirk was tense, his head like a washing machine. Of _course_ being offensive wasn’t going to help, but he was mostly running on autopilot, and the autopilot was faulty. The plane was probably about to crash. “Surely you remember _something_. You started it after all.”

“I’m sorry!” Todd’s vocabulary seemed to be rather limited tonight. “I– I don’t know what I was thinking. You wouldn’t shut up and they were going to find us– It worked, didn’t it? That’s what I remember, okay? _Not getting killed_.”

Dirk processed. Surfacing in the wave-pool of the memory were certain moments – Todd’s hands on his chest, pushing him away; Todd’s fingers around his ears, tearing him off. They stained the current of the memory, blotting over the certainty that Todd had been kissing him because he _wanted_ to, and bloomed down like a drop of ink in water. He wasn’t shaking now.

“That’s all?” His voice came out small, clamours of contradicting concepts fluttering through him. His eyes hurt as though he’d gone two days without sleep.

“What do you mean?” Todd sounded less angry but everything was going blurry and it was getting hard to see.

“Just– to shut me up?” Had he misremembered? Had it happened anything like he thought? Had he made it all up? The plane was definitely crashing. Doubt flared and a fragment of the panic from the scene at the dead-end spidered up his throat.

“I don’t–” Todd was surely going to end it with _‘know,’_ but he stopped and leaned forward a little. “Dirk, hey…” Why did he sound like– like _that?_ “Come on, don’t cry…”

“I’m not crying!” It was true! He wasn’t! There were no actual tears actually falling. They had all stayed obediently in his eyes where they made seeing difficult but he _wasn’t_ crying. Definitely not.

“Okay. You're not crying. Got it.”

Dirk nodded. The backs of his eyes were aching with the effort. Looking up at the ceiling to try and compose himself, he took a deep shaking breath and realised he’d been digging his nails into his palms – but before he could uncurl his fists there was motion in the water-wobbled bottom of his vision and arms around him.

It took a moment to realise Todd was hugging him. And then another to start breathing again. Lungs tight, fingers digging, limbs stiff; the room hung, spinning, then came slamming down like a dropped fridge. “Todd, I–”

“Shut up.” This time, there was nothing aggressive in Todd’s tone. There was no sandpaper fear or nervous serration. Trembling again, Dirk pried his hands off his knees and bunched them in the front of Todd’s shirt, burying himself into the embrace. He felt Todd take a shaky breath and move to sit closer, adjusting his hold. It was like being wrapped up in a kind comment, enveloped with warmth. Flushes of comfort flashed through Dirk – was anything even allowed to be this soothing? – and he found himself curiously both incredibly calmed and increasingly anxious. The way Todd was holding him – like he _really cared_ – it sparked doubt within his previous doubt. Maybe he _had_ remembered right? …But what if he hadn’t? All this doubt was getting rather meta; it was very confusing.

Then Todd moved a hand to the back of Dirk’s head; Dirk’s insides did some kind of parkour move and he stopped breathing again.


	5. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to remind your holistic detective how to breathe, because that's important, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More new words! Yay :)

Predictive text was giving Todd some weird results. Yet it didn't _seem_ like a bad idea, what he was doing, just as it hadn't seemed crazy when he– did what he did before. It was right to him, now, with Dirk finally gathered up and safe in his arms, and the thing that _wasn’t_ was that he’d not done this before. Not like this anyway, and it was so obvious now that Dirk really needed it. That he had _always_ really needed it. How had Todd never seen that before? But here was Dirk’s back under one palm, Dirk’s knuckles at his chest, Dirk’s face pressed into his shoulder, Dirk’s hair in the gaps between his fingers… _What was he doing?_ some part of him was asking. And he might have dawdled long enough to answer, had Dirk not made a small strangled noise and drawn attention to his state of un-breathing.

Todd pulled Dirk away from him by the shoulders. His hands were still fisted in Todd’s shirt and his eyes were still wide and rimmed with the glimmer of tears. It was somehow frustrating to see him _almost_ crying, but not. Like needing to sneeze but never quite managing to – only less explosive.

“Dirk,” Todd said, giving him a small shake. “Breathe.”

The detective only gave a small, panicked shake of the head and went a fraction more purple.

Todd peeled the hands from his shirt and set them back in Dirk’s lap. “Okay,” he said, heart rate increasing with the blood in Dirk’s face. “Uh. Can you– Breathe in, okay – with me?” He demonstrated slowly, and Dirk seemed to follow suit, his nostrils flaring. “And out…” Dirk opened his mouth and let out a shaking huff. Todd’s chest flipped with relief. A few more rounds of synchronised breathing and Dirk was the right colour again.

Todd took a deep breath himself. “Are you going to pass out anymore?” He realised he still had his hands on Dirk’s, and withdrew them.

Dirk shook his head again, and blinked slowly as though dizzy. His face beginning to shift out of shock, he looked confused – and, more strangely, _bothered_ by it. Normally he took confusion in his stride, but not now. He tilted his head.

“Did you–”

Todd raised his arm to interrupt, but Dirk’s eyes went wide again and he said, “You _are_ bleeding! I thought I saw something earlier.”

“What?” Todd’s head sloshed.

Dirk put a tentative finger to Todd’s elbow and a fizzle of pain scattered where he touched it. Todd looked down and saw, along the bottoms of his forearms, speckled stains on his shirt.

“Oh come on,” he muttered. “I literally just put this on.”

With his sleeves rolled up, harsh grazes were revealed. Dirk looked at them for a moment, his face filling with guilt.

“You must have got those when we fell…” He glanced up, apology buried in his features. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Todd gestured to Dirk’s knuckles. “I think we even out.”

Dirk smiled briefly. But his bearing grew weighted in the pause between words. “I don’t know– how many times you’ve saved my life, Todd…” 

Todd picked up the cloth from where he’d left it by his ankles and began to clean his grazes. It was like a paper cut – he’d had so much worse but still this found a way to hurt as though it mattered. “Yeah, well that’s only because you keep putting us both in life-threatening situations.” He tried to line his tone with a grin.

“Right. Yes.” Dirk’s brow furrowed as he watched Todd’s hands. “Sorry about that too.”

“Dirk.” Todd paused his work to catch Dirk’s eye. “It’s _okay_. We survived, didn’t we?”

Looking up with a small smile, Dirk said, “I suppose that’s true.” He shrugged. “Could be better though.”

Todd returned to his cleaning, trying to see the cuts on his elbow. “Not much.” A half-formed scab caught on the cloth and tore open; Todd hissed. “It’s not like we’re homeless or anything.”

Dirk made a noise of reluctant agreement. “Good point. I suppose we– Here, let me.” He took the cloth and began dab at Todd’s arm, a hand around his wrist. “I suppose we have each other,” he was saying, and scaughed; “I mean what would we _do_ without Farah? Of course this is way better than being alone, and I never–”

He cut himself off. Silence settled between them like a moth. Dirk’s hands were still shaking slightly, but he was gentler than expected as he dipped the cloth into the water, which was starting to go cold, and pressed it back against Todd’s skin.

“I just– don’t like repeatedly putting you in danger.”

“That’s not your fault,” said Todd. “I chose to be part of all this.” Dirk opened his mouth, but Todd pressed on. “Sure, I didn’t choose to have you slam into my life and tear everything up, but I could have walked away at the end of that.” Hesitantly, Dirk met his eyes. “I’m your friend because I _want_ to be, not because you’re dragging me along. If anything happens to me it’ll be my fault for being dumb enough to let it happen.”

Dirk’s expression then was so unexaggerated and quiet that Todd had to look away; a smile, laced with gratitude like a dew-jeweled silk web, softly shining with affection. “Thank you, Todd.”

Todd gremmed, and shook his head. “For what?”

“For staying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A scaugh (vb. to scaugh): the combination of a scoff and a laugh. (Already a word, according to Urban Dictionary - I happened to come up with the word which already exists for that exact thing :D)
> 
> A grem (vb. to grem): a smile of confusion, usually accompanied by a furrowing of the brow and/or a small shake of the head.


	6. Sci-Fi Sushi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to make your holistic detective feel appreciated. Things start to get better, I promise.

“You don’t need to thank me for that,” said Todd, confused, as Dirk returned to cleaning the blood from his arm. The more he did, the less awful it seemed; the line of bleeding was reduced to a scattering of scrapes.

Dirk looked up as he squeezed the cloth out in the water. “I really do.”

Todd’s grem hadn’t left him. “Wh–? It’s not like you’re a bother or anything.”

“Aren’t I though?” Dirk picked up Todd’s other arm and began to wash it, the tips of his fingers on Todd’s palm where he held it steady. “I mean, even if you don’t include how dangerous it is _just_ to be around me – I get myself into things you then end up risking everything to get me out of, I constantly annoy you, I basically rely on you to not die of normal things, I– And I don’t even say _sorry_ for most of it, I must be–”

“Dirk–” Todd wembered, amazed at how Dirk still wasn’t getting it. “I– I mean yeah, you do annoy the hell out of me a lot but that doesn’t mean I like you any less.” The doubt in Dirk’s expression was painful to behold. “I _like_ being around you, okay? I don’t– I don’t stay because I feel sorry for you or anything, I stay because I _like_ you.”

Dirk had stopped moving. The hand that held the cloth was cool against the heat of Todd’s grazes. The detective blinked. “Why?”

“Why?” Todd shook his head, bringing the fingers of his raised arm down to touch the tips of Dirk’s in his palm. “Because you changed _everything_. Because one day I was a bored, deceitful bellhop with no life and no purpose, and then the next… Dirk, you were like _meaning_ , delivered in human form. Through my window.” He paused, with a small huff of amusement. “That was quite an entrance.”

It was a wonder Dirk could produce so many tears and not cry them. And his smile… When he threw his arms around Todd’s neck it was quite frankly a relief, because another moment observing such an expression might have seared Todd’s retinas.

~

Being hugged was one thing, Dirk had concluded, but hugging someone was something else. And neither were quite the same as a mutual, both-directions hug, which was obviously the best.

Todd moved himself into what felt like a sturdier position, and said, “I can _feel_ you smiling again.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

There was a pause. “I don’t know. It’s kind of… uncanny but also sort of sci-fi-cool.”

“Is that a kind of seafood?”

Dirk thought he felt Todd laugh. “You don’t have a clue, do you? You really don’t have a clue.”

“Has it really taken you all this time to work that out?”

Hair brushed Dirk’s ear; Todd was shaking his head. “No, I just–” He took a breath and the coil of amusement left his voice. “I’m still coming to terms with some of it.”

“That’s all right. Take your time.”

There was no response. Dirk was starting to come across the few downsides of hugging; he couldn’t see Todd’s face. Exhaustion oozed in the air around them. “Listen, I’m sorry that–”

Todd cut in, _again_. “Dirk, you don’t have to–”

With a huff, Dirk pulled back from the hug with his hands on Todd’s shoulders. “Todd, I would really appreciate it if you didn't keep interrupting me when I'm _tr–_ ” He saw it coming split-seconds before it happened. A glint of mischief glimmered across Todd's face; then his hands were slipping up and attaching themselves to the front of Dirk's shirt, using it to pull him down–

Dirk’s head spun with the sudden motion. And if his guts had been flipping before, now they slingshotted round the sun a few times, jumping several millennia into the future and back. Yes, he had predicted this, but it took a fair moment to believe it was happening – happening _again_ , and this time– well, admittedly the goal seemed to be shutting him up this time too, but it was different now. It was… _inessential_.

Inessential affection. Warm and bubbly and shimmering like stars.

Todd pulled back from the kiss to breathe. There was just enough time for Dirk to mumble, “On second thoughts, it's actually really fine,” before his mouth was once more otherwise engaged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wember (vb. to wember): a slight shaking of the head as in confusion or disbelief, often accompanied by a grem.


	7. Iron Filings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to decide if you actually are in love with your holistic detective or not. (Subconsciously.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are! Finally at the end (Yes! Finishing it! How unusual!) and boy am I happy I ever started! Certainly a ride where "I have a lot of feelings about a lot of things" describes my emotional process.  
> Big thanks to my dearest Forest, who told me to take this idea from my mind and put it into words, and for encouraging me to carry on with it. :) I know I sound like I finished a four-part novel series, but completing things is rare for me so *just let me have this moment* ;)  
> Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Not thinking was the key, Todd had decided. It was a tactic which was serving him nicely so far. If he simply didn’t think about what was happening, he could just do it and– well, and enjoy it– without worrying about _why_ it was happening, or whether it _should_ be happening. 

… _Should_ it?

No. No thoughts allowed. And it was going well for him too, until a cold, wet droplet touched his nose. Carefully, he pulled back. Another droplet, unhindered by Todd’s face, slid down Dirk’s cheek.

Dirk was crying. Actually crying. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying to see it finally happen as Todd had expected. In fact, it was fairly distressing.

His fingers twitching in and out of tension on Todd’s shoulders either side of his neck, Dirk failed to form a sentence, or even a phrase. “It– I’m– Um, that–”

With a small motion, Todd hushed him. “Can I–” He was thinking again. All the thoughts he had pushed from his mind were swarming back in like wasps. Had he done something wrong? Was he going too fast? His fingers were still clenched in Dirk’s shirt, the detective’s jacket against his wrists. “–Do anything?”

“Glass of water,” said Dirk, his voice hoarse.

An excuse to briefly escape. “Okay.” Todd got up, slowly, Dirk’s hands dropping from his shoulders. His legs felt weird as he fumbled to gain his balance and he hit the end of the sofa on his way past. A bottle of water from the fridge, a pint glass from the fifth cupboard he looked in, which happened to be under the sink. Using both hands, he filled the glass, blood rising to his face with the water level. It was no use; he couldn’t avoid thinking any more. He’d have to find some other way to cope with everything thwomming in his mind.

~

Dirk took the opportunity while Todd’s back was turned to compose himself. He wiped the tears from his face with the palm of a hand, then regretted it as the salt stung in his cuts. With a sleeve he rubbed at his eyes, trying to suppress more weeping with dubious success. Why now? He hadn’t cried for years. He hadn’t cried when he was alone and scared and close to the edge. Why now then, when he was _happy_?

Because he was definitely happy. His chest felt like fireworks and his head fuzzed with elation. He had _friends_ , and now _this_ , and he’d never been as happy as he was now. All his life he’d never had anything like this, and now he had it… And that was why. He was aching with present joy and aching for his younger self – lost, alone, unloved for three decades, tossed constantly from one terror to the next. And for Todd, grappling with money and morality all that time – Farah and Amanda too. Simultaneously he praised the universe for bringing them together, and hated it for having taken so long. They had been loose ends, twisting and groundless in the wind until finally twining together. Their convergence was both the satisfying, sparkling end of one mystery and the tingling beginning of another.

When Todd came back with a pint of water, Dirk hadn’t quite stopped crying. But he’d got it largely under control.

“Thank you,” he said as Todd sat down with his back against the sofa and beckoned. Dirk shuffled to his side. “Sorry.”

“Dirk, you’ve got to stop apologising.”

“It would be easier if you stopped berating me.”

Todd hesitated. “Deal.” He held out the glass.

Dirk accepted it. “What?”

“You try, I’ll try.”

“Oh. Right.” Dirk filled his mouth with water and soaked his tongue in it. He had a strange new awareness in his lips, which was somewhat uncomfortable – but it wasn’t completely _bad_ either.

“You okay?” Todd was watching him closely. He looked slightly ill, and there was a flicker of delirium in his expression which mirrored a similar flame in Dirk. What was happening? Dirk didn't think either of them could have answered that question.

“I'm fine,” he said. Had that sounded insincere? “I really am. I'm more okayer than I've ever been okay with everything– doing everything everything does and I might–” Cutting himself off, Dirk took a breath.

“You don't…” Todd hesitated. “…Seem very okay.”

“No, really. It’s–” A trickle down his cheek; his breath caught. “It's _perfect_.”

Todd studied him for a moment, then visibly relaxed. “That's good,” he said, letting out a breath. “That's– That's good.”

“S–” Dirk began, but remembered the new deal and shut his mouth.

“There, see?” Todd gave him a nudge and an encouraging smile. “You’re improving already.”

Dirk turned to him, his happiness finally in his face again. “Tomorrow, the world.”

Todd was still and silent for a moment, not taking his lambent eyes from Dirk’s face. Then; “Where _did_ you come across that thing? About– the good communication thing?”

“Oh that? In a magazine. I never got to finish the article though, because the piano tuner found me first.” Dirk moved to face Todd, spreading his hands to emphasise his point; “Trust me – if you are ever given the choice between fighting a band of thugs or a piano tuner… take the thugs.”

~

Smiling, Todd shook his head. But a thought occurred to him and the merriment slipped from his face. “We’re going to have to go back there tomorrow, aren’t we? I mean, those guys _have_ to be connected to the case–”

“Naturally.”

“–And there’s got to be _something_ in that underground lair we can use to…”

Dirk’s smile hadn’t subsided, and now it was tinted with triumph. He was reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling something out, and saying, “Ow.” Clutched in his bare palm was a cluster of spiked leaves, which were doing no aid to his already beaten up hands.

“Dirk–” Todd reached over to stop him, but he’d already drawn it all the way out. Todd sighed. “Do you have any sense of self-preservation?”

“What, like an Egyptian mummy?”

“Never mind. What _is_ that?”

Dirk looked down at the contents of his hand. “It’s a plastic eyeball and a branch of holly,” he said.

“No, I mean– How does that have anything to do with anything?”

There was a pause while Dirk considered the objects. Then he looked up with a grin; “No idea. But they’re important somehow. I’ve got a feeling about them.”

“Is that…” Todd glanced between hand and face. “Good feeling or– or bad feeling?”

“Not sure. Maybe both. I have a hunch.” And sure enough, when he turned the twig over, there was a strange fungi smattered across the underside of the leaves.

For a moment, the pair regarded this, trying to slot the new information into their minds in a way that made sense. Todd decided to leave that until later, when he’d recharged his mental functions. “Where did you even find it?” He was scanning through the time in the concrete maze, trying to work out when Dirk could have picked something up without him noticing.

“Down the back of the crate with the cheese. Well, sort of. It was kind of between that and the washing machine.” Gesturing extensively, the eyeball in one hand and the holly in the other, Dirk continued to attack himself with botanical barbs.

Todd stilled his hands. Another pause, fogged with fatigue; then unannounced, Dirk lit up.

“Todd! You know what we can be now?”

Todd peered at him through weariness. “Botanists?”

“ _Holly stick detectives_!”

Cogs clunked in Todd’s mind. “Holly sti– Holly– Holi– …Oh god, that’s _terrible_.”

Dirk nodded, grin like the everbulb. “I know!”

And like the everbulb’s light, his grin reflected on Todd’s face too. It was infectious, and his emotional immune system was debilitated from exhaustion.

“We should get some sleep,” he muttered, surprised to find reluctance in his own voice.

Dirk’s ecstatic energy filtered away. “Yes. Probably. Good idea.”

“Yeah.” Shakily, Todd stood, and realised he’d done a poor job of patching Dirk up. The first-aid bag still lay unrifled near the abandoned bowl of water, band-aids unpeeled. But his dexterity had plummeted, and Dirk didn’t seem to really notice his cuts anymore anyway. Tactically avoiding Dirk's eyes, Todd stepped off the rug towards the door. He didn't want to see any more happiness drain from the detective's face. But they needed sleep; all the running around and hiding and arguing and jumping across gaps had certainly worn Todd out – not to mention the continuing clay-like ache in his arms from carrying Dirk down those corridors. That had been awful – the squalling of his limbs begging him to let go, the threat of thugs twining after them through the dark, the messy flop of Dirk’s hair and the way his mouth had hung slightly open… Todd was nearly at the door, his head humming with conflictions. He just needed some time to work through this all, to try and understand what was happening. He just needed to think.

“Todd–”

Todd turned around. Dirk had got up and was standing in the middle of the room, looking abruptly alone and afraid. It was suddenly as hard to leave him there and it was to leave a puppy in the middle of a road.

Todd hesitated. It couldn’t have been later than nine o’clock – and the sofa had appealed to him earlier…

As his eyes drifted, he noticed the paper bag on the table where he’d left it and completely forgotten about it. Another trickle of doubt slithered through him – at every moment he seemed to question the reality of the whole situation – but the evidence was against him. The way that Dirk had said, _“It’s perfect,”_ as though nothing in the universe could have possibly improved the moment, as though he truly _had_ never been okayer – it should have been enough to convince him.

Maybe, subconsciously, he was already convinced, because he found himself taking the paper bag from the table and heading back towards Dirk.

Slightly hunched over, Dirk seemed small. And his face was a dappled mixture of surprise and confusion. “What are you doing?”

Todd glanced over his shoulder briefly. “I can sleep on the sofa. If– If that’s okay?”

Dirk nodded vigorously. “That’s fine,” he said quickly.

Todd sat down, and finally let himself sink into the sofa’s cushions. “Thank you.”

“No, thank– thank _y–_ ” Dirk put himself down beside Todd, knees together. “What’s in that?”

Todd pulled himself upright with some effort. “For you.” He held it out.

Hesitantly, Dirk took it; glancing up at Todd, he unrolled the top and peered inside. To Todd’s delight, he gave a jubilant cry and pulled out its contents.

“Really?” His eyes sparkled. His hands were already covered in sugar.

“Yeah. I got it from the bakery this morning, before we went out. It’ll be stale tomorrow.”

“But what about you?” The joviality creased on his face.

“It’s fine. You’re probably hungrier than me.” Todd wondered if there was anything in Dirk’s kitchen that could be made into proper food.

Dirk closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, holding the donut up to his face. Letting out the air again, his smile practically sang. When he opened his eyes, they were saturated with emotion.

“You’re _amazing_ , Todd,” he said, leaning forwards. “Have I told you that?”

Todd shrugged, tingling like iron filings tugged to a magnet. “You’re amazing too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thwomming (vb. to thwom): Onomatopoeia really. Think TARDIS.  
> Smattered (vb. to smatter): scattered across a surface, usually in blotches; splattered, sprayed.


End file.
